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FIRST   REMEMBERED   THINGS

Then the strong arms of my elder brother grabbed
me and lifted me up to the back of the horse
again, and he hissed into my ear:

ŁNow5 you stay there! You are four years old,,
and if you cannot ride a horse now? we will put
girl's clothing on you and let you grow up to be
an old woman/

From this Incident on? I remember things dis-
tinctly. I remember moving about over the
prairies from camp to camp. As I close my eyes
now and allow my memory to drift back to this
early nomadic existence, a life which has vanished
for ever In North America, the first thing that
comes to me is a colour—a dull, deep bluish grey.
That was the colour of my early world. Every-
thing I saw was tinted with this mystic greyness.
It represented dangers mystery, and distance.
We were not yet entirely at peace with our ancient
enemies, the Crows, the Assinibolnes, the Sioux,
and the Crees; and stories of a new peril which
might spell our doom—the White Man—were
being whispered about our camp-fires. Danger
lurked everywhere, even in the animals from
which we secured our food.

Mystery pervaded everything. In addition to
the natural mysteries attendant upon early youth,
we had also to grope under the weird mysteries
of Indian cult and superstition. And our fathers
themselves were facing a big mystery added to the

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